SPACECOW The correct answer was : "I can see clearly now the rain has gone." | GRUNTCOW Product of the human need for conflict. Big, brown, and most unlovely.
It's all out of my hands now. You're not playing my game at all, the simple and honest world of the Spacecow. I've decided to step out of the equation and let you all discuss it yourselves - mostly because I reckon I might have been annoying people by being too lazy to put up their suggestions.

Let's recap, though - the development of this load of shite has been less than simple.

let's go straight to
THE BOVINE SPACE CORPS (DIPLOMACY) CENTRE
and sort these silly cows out

IN THE BEGINNING

The Darkside of SPAM is attempting to take over the Universe! Only Spacecows, Gruntcows, and Humans stand in their way! | The first mention of Gruntcows can be traced to Saint Duncan, who seemed to envisage an uneasy union between the two breeds. They were united, apparently, against Spam, which was threatening to take over the universe. This was obviously a load of old toss - but it seemed to strike a chord with those of you who suffered abuse as children. Unfortunately, the email address he gave didn't work. So you can't write to him and tell him how much pain he has caused.

POETRY IN MOOTION

He is space cow, he so fine, His wee is finest sipping wine. Black is tall, has toes of spike, Purple makes cow a backwards bike, And snail-behind, he slither slow While riders ride to gruntcow show. | So, now there are rumours of a Gruntcow show - a show where the corpses of the Spacecow foe are displayed in undignified positions, probably holding their hooves in camp gestures, and taking it up the jacksy from a randy bee. God, you fuckers are weird.

THEN

It pays to Pooooh! | Brief respite from the diplomatic nightmare of cow politics from an anonymous source, revelling in the simple pleasure of poo. And who can argue?

WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN

I am chosen leader of Spacecows, sent to form an alliance with the humans. Saint Duncan | The Spacecow underground resistance begins - with coded messages to the Moon. Oh, yes! Moon contains the word Moo! I could have capitalised on that, had I thought about it. That would be a-moo-sing! Ha, ha... ha!

MEANWHILE, AT THE DAILY PLANET

I'm a blue cow, not just a moo cow, In my lair of beaver cheese and silver snails I await gruntcows, in untamed herds. | An anonymous posting, and you can see why. A life of drug abuse must have left this addled individual with few clues to their own identity.

Phil Glanville has given the gruntcow a face. You can give it words.
Go to the bulletin board, and be the space diplomats you were born to be!